


Of Kittens and Men

by Damalia (Achrya)



Series: Something In You I Believe In [4]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Come Eating, Crying, Daddy Kink, Daddy Marco, Dom/sub, Fingerfucking, Kitty Jean, M/M, Masturbation, Overstimulation, Pet Play, Prostate Milking, Safewords, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6138412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Damalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco thinks Jean is a lot like a spoiled bratty cat. What is meant to be a joke (mostly) gets a little out of hand. Jean's into it, Marco is into it, and thus Kitten Play becomes part of their relationship. </p><p>(Filth. Such filth)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Kittens and Men

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OverMyFreckledBody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverMyFreckledBody/gifts).



> Starting out pretty light here. Sort of. Masturbation, cum eating, fingering, fucking, overstimulation, prostate milking, aftercare, and of course pet play. You know. Light. Also I would suggest speaking with a partner and getting the ok before fingering them until they cry. Captain Planet says "Safe, sane, and consensual is super rad!"

 

Marco loved Jean. He really and truly did, with all of his heart. Their relationship hadn’t always been the smoothest and the recent choice to move in together wasn’t without it’s issues and growing pains but they were getting past it, or at least he liked to think they were.

Sometimes he wasn’t so sure.

Like now. Jean was standing at the side of the desk, hip cocked to rest against it, arms crossed over his chest and looking mad enough to spit. Normally this would trouble Marco and he would try to find out what had his boyfriend so upset but, in this case, he already knew and frankly he thought Jean was being ridiculous.

“I have to finish these schedules for the next two weeks and then go over the time cards tonight and then I have these applications to go over.” He said for what felt like the hundredth time.

Since he’d been promoted to nursing supervisor at the facility he worked out the amount of time he spent doing work, even at home, had gone up a lot. It didn’t leave much time for anything else but it wasn’t as if he could blow off work. He knew it was frustrating, it was frustrating for him too and occasionally infuriating, and he knew it took away from other things but it had to be done.

Jean glaring at him because he couldn’t take the time to lie around and focus solely on him didn’t change things.

His boyfriend huffed then, with a particularly shitty look, reached out and pushed his coffee mug off of the desk. It was empty, thankfully, and bounced harmlessly on the ground. Marco gaped at Jean who sniffed then around to stalk towards their bedroom. The door slammed behind him hard enough to rattle the windows.

“What the fuck.” He muttered as he reached down to scoop up the cup. He set it aside then put his head down on top of the desk for a moment, sighing at the absurdity of Jean’s actions. He couldn’t even be mad because, really, Jean was just...a huge mess sometimes.

He was Marco’s mess and he even loved that bratty part of him, probably gave in to it far too often, but a mess nonetheless.

He reminded Marco of the cat his older sister Sigyn had adopted in middle school. It had been a beautiful thing with soft orange and white fur and an attitude that just never quit. She’d been completely spoiled, strutting around the house like she’d owned it, plopping down wherever she wanted in order to laze about in the sun with not a single care to whose way she might have been in, demanding attention on her terms, turning her little nose up at things often, and hissing furiously whenever she wasn’t immediately indulged.

Jean was a lot like that right down to his tendency to find spots in front of windows to sit or take a nap in front of.

It was too bad that, for all of his cat like traits, that Marco couldn’t take a spray bottle to him when he misbehaved or toss him a jingling ball to distract him from his irritation.

Or maybe he should. He wondered how Jean would react to that and chuckled softly at the thought at his boyfriend’s shocked face if he were to haul out a spray bottle of water one day.

The mental image of Jean in his head was slightly different from the real thing, sporting fuzzy black pointed ears, a twitching tail, and not much else. That Jean responded not with curses and sharp words but with hisses and swipes of his hand and when he wanted something he’d vocalize it with short little whines and soft needy mewls.

Maybe he would sit at his feet, rubbing against him and licking his fingers and sitting back on his haunches, mouth open and waiting for-

Marco sat up abruptly and looked towards the bedroom, half expecting Jean to be standing there somehow aware of his thoughts and that he’d gotten half hard thinking about him acting like a cat. There was, of course, only the door.

Well that and his own shame.

Not that much shame. He was dating Jean after all and Jean was fucking shameless as far as their relationship and sex went (The first time they’d had sex had been like a marathon, complete with sleeping breaks, and at the end Marco had been coming dry.) Marco was a little more reserved about things, which wasn’t to say he’d never gotten up to an interesting thing or two before Jean, just that he’d never made it a habit or sought it out.

Even now it was just a little bondage here, a little spanking there, nothing too intense and always done safely and after an adequate amount of research. In the grand scheme of things it was still pretty low on the kink scale which was fine by him. Marco had always been more into doing what his partner liked and enjoyed being able to give them what they wanted and taking care of them.

Still thinking about Jean being some sort of nonverbal cat person was...not a bad thought, even if it was a little out of the scope of things he would have thought he liked.

He pursed his lips and looked at his computer, fingers tapping on the top of his desk as he thought it over. Then opened up an internet window and tapped in a search phrase.

It took a few before he found exactly what he was looking for, there was a bit of misdirection with the ‘furry’ thing, but then there were hundreds of pages to look over. He choose a few promising sounding ones, poured himself some more coffee, and then settled in.

At some point he decided to grab a few things. Not seriously or anything, just some cheapy props to give to Jean with a ‘if you’re going to act like a prissy cat maybe you should have the tools for it’, just for laughs.

But then he found a place with customizable things and a ton of options to choose from and he would have been lying if he said he didn’t like giving Jean nice things. It wasn’t even a real conscious effort when he began tapping through his options, considering what colors would look best against Jean’s skin and what sort of materials and shapes would be best. By the time he was done he’d shelled out a decent amount of money but was oddly happy with his selections.

Sure it was just for a laugh, and maybe to get Jean to tone down the bratty behavior a little, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t buy nice stuff.

\---

He almost forgot all about it except three weeks later he got a call from Jean.

“Marco.” Came the oddly toneless greeting.

“Hmm? Is there something wrong?” It was unusual for Jean to call when he was at work though, for a change of pace he was actually sitting in his office and not chasing someone down to yell at them.

“A package came. It was wrapped up and had a card that said it was from you to me.”

Marco hummed thoughtfully trying to think of any presents he might had gotten Jean lately. Nothing came to mind except-

“Oh. That.” He even remembered what the card said now that he was reminded of it. ‘Naughty spoiled Kitties should at least look the part.’ In hindsight it might have been a little...much when combined with everything else.

Jean was silent for a moment. The sound of his soft even breathing was starting to make Marco nervous and he was prepared to apologize when, finally, Jean snorted

“Whatever. I’ll show you spoiled.”

He hung up without another word. Marco could only stare at his phone in horror; it had, somehow, never occurred to him that this might provoke Jean to retaliate or act worse. It should have since ‘escalation issues’ should have been Jean’s middle name.

Well. Nothing to do about it now. He would talk to Jean about it when he got home, let him know he’d just been teasing

\---

Or maybe he was the one being teased. He stepped into the apartment, ready to toe of his shoes and collapse somewhere with, perhaps, Jean curled up against him, and then stopped, mind grinding to a halt so hard he thought he might have smelled something burning.

Jean was on the couch, stretched out on his stomach to laze in a puddle of sunlight, wearing not a single stitch of clothing. Which, actually, wasn’t all that strange at all (Jean had an aversion to clothing when in the privacy of their apartment. Marco didn’t mind.) but all the other stuff was…

There were ears, tall narrow pointed triangles that Marco knew were covered with a soft fake fur, on top of his head and tail, long and fluffy, poking out from between the cheeks of his ass then curving down over one thigh to hand off the side of the couch. The fur all started out roughly the same ash brown of Jean’s hair then darkened to be completely black at the tips of the tail and ears.

There was a collar around his neck, dark green with a small silver bell and silver tag hanging from the front.

There were two bowls on the floor in front of the couch and, as Marco glanced at them to see that yes they did have ‘Marco’s Kitten’ across the front in looping white, he considered that maybe he’d gone overboard for a little joke.

He was going to chalk it up as a win. Even if Jean was fucking with him, and he had to be, the image he made was worth it.

Jean picked up his head from where it was pillowed on his arms to look at him, light brown eyes sharp and considering. It was hard to say what conclusion he came to because, after a moment of staring, he pushed himself up to his hands and knees and stretched and Marco’s brain did a great job of falling apart again. His back arched as his shoulders fell forward and his ass went up, tail shifting just a little behind him as his fingers spread out over the couch. His dick was hard and hung down between his legs, making it that much filthier.

Completely worth.

Marco shed everything but his pants and undershirt before crossing over to Jean, who’d settled back down with a lazy yawn and seemed to be occupying himself batting at the end of his tail.

“Are you having fun?”

Jean smirked at him then sat up, presumably to make room for him. Marco didn’t sit; instead he shook his head and let his eyes roam over Jean’s body again, not bothering to try and hide how much he liked what he was seeing.

“I figured it’d be pretty hot but...not this hot.” Jean’s smirk grew; Marco rolled his eyes. Stroking Jean’s ego was sure to bring nothing but trouble later. “How long do you intend to wear all that?”

Jean cocked his head to the side blinking slowly and then made a soft mewling sound that went straight to Marco’s dick. His heart stuttered and squeezed; he hadn’t been expecting that (or any of this) and it shook him a little.

Was this...were they doing this? Another look at Jean, resting on his knees, cock hard, stroking over the tail and looking completely at ease told him that yes, this was what they were doing.

He looked up at the ceiling, trying to will himself to calm down, then swallowed hard. “Jean, babe?”

Another meow, this time coupled with a hint of a frown, and then a questioning noise.

Fuck fuck fuck, that was so much better than in his head.

“Can we, uh, talk first? Then we can...play?”

The change in Jean was immediate. He shifted position, sitting down gingerly, and the languid quality to his body seemed to drain away into something stiff and nervous.

“Am I doing this wrong? I read up while you were at work and it seemed...I mean. I kind of like it I think?” Jean flushed and looked away. “I don’t know. I thought I’d just try it out, maybe take some pictures to send you, then put it all away but uh...got a little weird in my head maybe. Seemed nice to stay this way.”    

“I.” Marco licked his lips, not sure what to make of that confession. “I’m not an expert or anything. I spent a few hours reading, probably the same stuff you did. I just...I was just messing around. You act like a bratty cat so I thought it’d be funny.” Jean’s eyes had gone comically wide and Marco hurried to keep going before Jean burst into flames of mortification. “But this is...good. **So** good.”

The seemed to help; some of the tension leaked out of Jean’s body and he was no longer sitting ramrod straight. His fingers plucked the end of the tail back up and started petting it again. He looked considerably more relaxed once it was back in his hand.

“I just...we should be on the same page before we do anything. How you want to do this?”

Jean shrugged. “I thought I was going to be your kitty or whatever and you were going to be my...owner? Play with me and tell me what to do, right?”

Marco’s mouth was dry. “Is that what you want me to do? Because, seriously, I could just watch you lie around like this and I think I’d be happy.”

“I might like both.” Jean smiled slightly, shyer in that gesture than Marco had ever seen him before. “...I think I’d like you telling me what to do. Maybe punishing me when I don’t listen? That’s what happens to naughty spoiled kittens right?”

Marco’s voice, in a true testament to his amazing poker face and acting skills, didn’t tremble even though Jean’s words had shaken him. His hardon was pressing against his boxers and he was sure Jean had to be able to notice the tent in the front of his pants. “We can do that. How...how far did you want to go? I...well.” He looked down at the bowls he’d ordered with everything else.

He didn’t expect much on that front, though the idea of Jean down on his hands and knees lapping milk out of a bowl was… Well he clearly had a kink or two, but that didn’t mean it was the sort of thing Jean would go for.

Another shrug. “I guess we could see as we go? Try things out.”

He nodded his acceptance of Jean’s suggestion after a moment of thought. That seemed like the best idea. There were, according to his long trip down the Pet Play Rabbit Hole, a hundred different things they could or couldn’t do and he doubted it was possible to cover everything. Better to stick to the important things and figuring out the rest.

Which was assuming there was more than this. Maybe they’d hate it. Maybe Jean just liked anal plugs and cat ears; they were in a whole lot of uncharted territory here.

He chewed at his lip for a moment, trying to figure out if there was anything else ‘big’ before they gave this a try. He envisioned the way Jean had been before, watching him carefully, showing off for him, and responded with quiet noises.

“I want you to talk. I liked the...noise you made but I need you to talk to me too. If you don’t like something or want to stop or need something I want you to let me know.”

“Same system as usual?” Jean’s lips pressed together into a thoughtful frown. Marco nodded again; they’d agreed on the traffic light system before, easy and intuitive. Never need to use it but Marco felt better with it on the table. “And...do I just...call you by name? Owner? Master? is that...a thing? You’d like?”

He didn’t particularly care one way or the other but if Jean was asking in spite of how embarrassed he looked while doing so it probably mattered to him. “It can be anything you want if you like. Think about it.”

Jean was tomato red again as he nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’m going to take a shower.” And think about how this had happened and what the hell he was going to do about it. “Stay off the furniture.”

It was an almost unthinking demand, something he remembered his mom wanting Sigyn to get her cat to do (It had never happened) more than something he was really ‘thinking’ about. But it was out there now so he waited to see what Jean would do. Did he really want to be told what to do? Was this what he had in mind?

Jean reared back, looking faintly outraged. Marco’s heart pounded and, he realized, his palms were suddenly sweaty. It felt...important. More important than something like this should have been but, at the same time, maybe it was a big deal.  

Then, after a silent and still moment, Jean swallowed loudly before sliding down from the couch and onto his knees in front of it then tilted his head to look up at Marco. He looked unsure, like he might change his mind at any moment or was waiting for something.

It took Marco a moment to pull himself back together; the sight of Jean down on his knees because he’d told him to do something was enough to make him light headed. He liked it though, felt an electric jolt when Jean had finally moved to comply. Marco reached out and brushed a hand over his hair.

“Good kitty.” It felt strange in his mouth, the words not quite fitting but, feeling Jean shudder under his hand, he was sure he could work with it.

\---

When he came out the shower, feeling moderately more calm and having taken more time that was really needed, it was to find Jean in the bedroom, up on his knees at the window, tail hanging between his legs, and staring out at something. They lived across from nothing interesting, a standard block crammed with apartments and people, but Jean was watching like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He was spared an almost disinterested glance and then Jean was back to the window.

He looked more relaxed, like he had when Marco had first come home, a small smile he couldn’t ever recall seeing curving his lips.

Marco filed that away to ponder over later then went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

He’d half expected to find Jean either having dropped the entire cat idea or to be on the couch or bed or a counter just to spite him so finding that none of that was the case told him Jean was serious. And was sort of hot. Not that Jean down on the floor did something for him (not that it didn’t) but that he’d done as he was told. It was an excited tingle in his gut, a return to the heat that had abated while he’d been in the shower.

Marco had given the matter some thought while in the bathroom and had settled on what seemed to make the most sense; he was going to treat Jean like he was a pet and see where that got them.

Any attempt to come up with something more complex than that had just made him nervous and he felt like he couldn’t be nervous for this. He was the ‘owner’ right? That meant he was in control, in so far as Jean let him be.

Of course most of his experience with cats was ignoring them until they demanded his attention but that too was something he figured he could play by ear. He didn’t see much point in ignoring Jean at the moment.

Back in the bedroom he set down the water, fished a tube of lube out of the bedside dresser, then sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread.

“Je-” He stopped, considering. Jean half turned towards him, a curious expression on his face. “Kitten. Come here.”  

Jean looked down for a heartbeat, cheeks pinkening, before moving like he was going to stand only to stop midway. He looked at Marco, expression unsure and searching, then carefully dropped down so his hands were on the floor.

Marco watched Jean crawl towards him, ass pushed up a little and tail swishing between his legs, and wondered how embarrassing it would be to come in his pants before anything else had happened. Jean stayed on all fours until he was filling the space between his legs then settled back on his calves, which brought him roughly face to face with Marco’s crotch and the rapidly rising bulge under his pajama pants. Jean’s eyes darkened, pupils stretching, but he stayed quiet and looked up at him expectantly.

Marco inhaled then exhaled slowly. He could do this. ...He was going to try to do this and hope he didn’t sound incredibly stupid while doing so. He touched the top of Jean’s head then slid his hand down to cup his cheek. Jean turned his face to nuzzle against him, a happy trill filling the air.

“You stayed off the furniture like a good kitty so I think you should have a reward.” He lifted his hips some, using his free hand to push down his pants enough for his cock to come free. He wrapped a hand around it, pumping slowly. Jean was close enough that he could feel his breath, warm and damp, fanning over his hand and dick. “How about a treat?”

He cringed on the inside but kept his face impassive. Jean’s eyes narrowed to slits but no laughter or mocking noises were made. He stroked himself firmly, friction from his dry hand a little uncomfortable, and squeezed towards the top until there was a bead of precum oozing out.

Jean’s eyelids drooped lower and a shaky meow fell from parted lips.

“You want it?” Jean was better at dirty talk than he was and, it seemed, that translated to non-verbal communication because his answering mewl was blatantly needy and stroked at the heat in Marco’s stomach. “I don’t know, were you good enough to deserve my cock?”

Another unsure look was tossed up at him; he could see the question on Jean’s face. He didn’t know if he’d been ‘good enough’, didn’t know what to do next. Marco hummed as he twisted his hand.

“No, I don’t think you have. Not yet.” He swept over the head to drag the sticky stream down his cock. The words came easier and easier, felt less ridiculous, especially when he heard Jean’s breathing catch. “You’ll have to wait for your treat. Show me how patient you can be.”

Jean’s tongue darted out to drag over his lips, attention focused on the movement of Marco’s hand.  Marco thrust into his hand, clenching his fist around the base, then eased back down thumb pressing against the underside of the head. He groaned but it was more at Jean, mouth open and slack, than what he was doing.

Fucking Jean’s mouth would have been amazing. Marco closed his eyes, a picture of Jean’s lips stretched around his cock coming to mind. That perfect mouth would be a willing slick channel for him to shove into over and over while Jean just took it. He’d fuck in deeper and harder, bottoming out and staying put until Jean was gagging around him, throat convulsing.

He came with a hiss through gritted teeth, hips stuttering up as his body stiffened. He hurried to cup his hand around the head to catch his release, thick sticky streams across his fingers and palm.

When he opened his eyes he found Jean panting, lips swollen and slick. A look down told him that Jean was hard, dick flushed red and curving up against his belly to paint pearly paths over his skin.

He let go of his cock carefully; he could already feel his cum starting to ooze between his fingers and slip along his palm.

“Color?” He was almost positive that if there had been a problem Jean would have let him know but he needed something, a confirmation, before he could be sure. Jean didn’t hesitate at all before answering.

“Green.” He practically sighed the word.

“Up here.” It was a little awkward for a second, him trying to hold his hand steady while Jean scrambled up to climb over him. He got him to sit so his back was against his chest and his legs were on the outside of his own, spreading him wide. The tail was soft where it rubbed against him, whispering against the skin of his inner thigh.

Marco brought his hand closer to Jean’s lips once he was settled. “Get your reward. Don’t waste it.”

Jean didn’t need to be told twice; he leaned in, breath dancing over skin, and eagerly dragged his tongue over Marco’s palm, gathering up the rapidly cooling cum, and chasing the trails that had slide towards his wrist.

It tickled some but Marco didn’t feel much like laughing as the squirming muscle lapped over his skin and was painted milky white. Jean swallowed then made another pass, dipping into the lines with the tip of his tongue. His eyes flickered up to meet Marco’s and then he _purred_.

Even though he’d just gotten off the noise coming from Jean’s throat made his stomach clench and his dick twitch a little.

Jean made short work on his hand then trailed up to his fingers, swiping over on then dipping between to catch what had tried to escape that way.

Marco pulled his gaze away, which was not easy, and leaned forward a little to look over Jean’s shoulder. He reached, completely bypassing Jean’s straining erection, to touch the tail. He followed it up until he could wrap his fingers around the bit of the plug between where the fur was fitted and what was in Jean. He tugged it down a little and twisted; Jean’s hips twitched up and his tongue stopped working as he meowed plaintively. There was resistance and he could feel Jean’s thighs tensing and pressing against his own like he was trying to close his legs.

“I said get it all. Good kitties don’t waste.” The response he got was a strangled groan followed by Jean sucking two of his fingers into his mouth with an obscene slurp and slumping back against him.

He kept up the pressure on the plug and, once Jean was leaning back into him, it came free easier. Jean squirmed but kept to his task, ducking around to get to the back of Marco’s hand, tongue seeking anything he might have missed.

He touched Jean’s hole, finger rubbing around the stretched ring of muscle. He was open and still a little slick even after so long with the plug in; there was no resistance when he pressed a finger in just past the first knuckle. Jean clenched around him, muscles fluttering as if trying to drag him in deeper. His legs trembled and pressed against Marco’s again.

He fucked his fingers into Jean slowly, wiggling against the clenching heat. He could tell the plug had done a good job of stretching him past needing this but he liked the way Jean felt around him. Jean pressed down, chasing after his hand when his fingers dragged out and sucking the fingers in his mouth harder.

A second finger sank in just as easy. He knew Jean’s body, had more than enough experience in that area, and finding that slightly raised and softer spot inside of him was almost instinctual. He bent his fingers just a little, angled them just right, and rubbed lightly. The response was immediate, Jean going completely rigid and then twisting as a full body shiver ran through him.

He maintained careful gentle touches on Jean’s prostate, massaging and stroking alternately. There was, he knew, a careful balance when it came to slowly working someone up just right. Too much would end it too soon and if he drew it out too much Jean would be hurting before they were done. He’d never done this himself but he’d been on the receiving end of this kind of play a few times before he’d met Jean.

Jean’s mouth opened around a breathy whine so Marco took the opportunity to pull his spit soaked fingers free. He found Jean’s nipple and thumbed over it before pinching lightly. He rolled the small hardening nub between his fingers, nuzzling against Jean’s neck as he worked, then pinched harder.

Jean’s head fell forward.

He could see bright red covering Jean’s chest and shoulders and felt the heat from the blush under his fingertips.

When he tilted his head to the side he could see Jean’s face was just as red, his eyes blown wide and glassy, and that his bottom lip was trapped between his teeth. He was rocking against Marco’s fingers and a look down found his cock leaking thin pearlescent threads of precum.

Marco thought about the mirror hanging on the back of the bathroom door mournfully; he wished he could have seen everything at once, including his fingers inside of Jean, but having Jean straddling his lap didn’t allow for it. Some other time maybe.

Jean added a circular roll to the way he was riding Marco’s fingers and let out that needy mewling noise again. He was tensing, moving his hips faster; Marco pulled his fingers free. The mewl turned into a hiss.

Marco reached for the lube, which meant taking his other hand off Jean as well, and poured a large amount out. He didn’t move with any real urgency even though Jean was practically vibrating on top of him. He spread the lube over his fingers, added more, and then set the tube back where it could be reached if he needed it.

His fingers were practically dripping when he pushed back into Jean and the sound of it was a lewd squelch. Three was a tighter fit that got tighter when his spread them apart, forcing Jean wider. Just like he knew how to find Jean’s prostate he knew how to avoid it, sliding his fingers in and out as hard as his position would allow and carefully angling them away.

Jean growled and hissed, pushed his torso back harder against Marco in an attempt to gain leverage to change the angle of his hips.

Marco played with the other nipple, pulling and rolling long after it became tight under his touch. After a hard tug an arm came up and looped around his neck, nails scraped over the skin there. Jean’s other hand found his leg, slipped down to his inner thigh and kneaded the flesh almost hard enough to hurt.

It wasn’t long before Jean’s body was tightening up again, nails digging into Marco’s skin deeper, maybe breaking the skin, and again he stopped. His withdrew his fingers until on the tips were in and stayed there. Jean yowled, an angry frustrated noise, and thrashed but he couldn’t get Marco to move.

Jean stopped, body trembling. His head bumped Marco’s chin; at first he thought Jean was just wiggling around again but then he repeated the motion twice more, forehead bumping and then rubbing against him, though there was a soft whine added. Jean turned his head so his cheek rubbed first again Marco’s neck and then higher over his chin and cheek; he made the same quiet noise the whole time.

Marco groaned, the realization that Jean was _begging_ , not with words but with the almost meek noise and the nuzzling, hitting him hard. He felt mean and he felt powerful and it was hard to breathe around the heady mix.

He moved his arm so it was tight around Jean’s waist and pushed his fingers back in, aiming right for the bundle of nerves he’d been neglecting. He drug his fingertips over it then pressed. Jean shouted. His cock, which looked painfully hard and was an angry purple at the head, leapt and thin fluid dribbled out to trickle down the shaft. Marco didn’t let up right away, massaging Jean’s prostate firmly as he bucked in his lap. More fluid spurted out weakly, spreading over his heaving stomach and puddling around the base of his cock. Jean’s eyes were shut tight and Marco could see tears leaking out to trail down his face.

His hand twitched then moved away from Marco’s leg; he was ready for it and swatted away Jean’s attempt to touch his still hard and throbbing erection with a firm “No.”

The denial was what pushed Jean over the edge.

“Fuckfucknodon’tpleaseplease.” Jean’s words were slurred, running into one long keening plea. “PleaseIneedohhhfuck **Daddy** please **Daddy**.”

Marco blinked, nearly yanked out of the moment, but then Jean’s lips were crushing against his own and he was swallowing the desperate words being pushed into his mouth.

He wasn’t sure how exactly he wrestled Jean fully onto the bed on his back but once he got him there and was settled between his legs he had to stop and breathe. He felt frayed around the edges, pulled taut, and his hands were shaking; he knew that being like that wasn’t going to work for this.

He had to be able to keep his head, to listen and pay attention and, hopefully, not cum on the spot. He wasn’t sure when he’d gotten hard again exactly but he felt like he was dangerously close to the edge already.  

When he was pretty sure he had whatever threads of his control remained gathered up Marco grabbed one of Jean’s legs. He used it to tug him closer then pushed it up to rest on his shoulder, giving him a better view of Jean’s shiny and swollen rim. He rubbed at it, dipped fingertips just inside, and the heel of Jean’s foot pushed hard into his back. He chuckled then moved his hand to Jean’s waist so he could drag him back onto his cock.

Jean’s back arched up and off of the bed and a yowl started then died, simply falling away in the air. The sight, the sound, were like a gut punch and Marco had to shut his eye as he filled Jean’s weakly clenching chanel.

He didn’t stop until he was completely seated and then he just sat; he felt like he could feel every minute tremble of Jean’s body through his dick and it was almost too much. When he did blink his eyes open he frowned at what was laid out beneath him. Jean’s arms were up and tossed over his face, effectively hiding himself from Marco, and his chest and stomach were pulled in like he was holding his breath. Marco could just barely hear wet choked noises.

“Jean? Jean, I need you to breathe.” He smoothed a hand up Jean’s side and over his ribs. There wasn’t even a twitch of acknowledgement. “Jean! You- Kitten? I need a color.”

Jean whimpered then exhaled. The seconds ticked past before Jean’s arms moved and red rimmed amber eyes met Marco’s. Jean looked terrible, face red and splotchy, tear streaked, hair plastered to his head and lips swollen.

Marco was very bothered by how much that face made him want to bend Jean almost in half and just plow into him.

“ _green_.”

He almost asked if he was sure but bit it back before he could. It he didn’t trust Jean to know when he wanted to slow down or stop there wasn’t much point to having safe words at all.

Jean doesn’t move at first. He laid there, making punched out noises every time Marco slammed into him, fingers white knuckling the sheets. His eyes flickered open and shut, sometimes wide and sometimes clenched tight in a grimace.

One especially hard thrust, where Marco had pulled almost completely out then pulled Jean to him while snapping his hips forward, brought more tears and more begging. Jean’s hips started moving, pushing up in a sloppy and uneven rhythm, and the foot at Marco’s back dug in painfully.

He wasn’t nice about it, chasing his own release more than anything else and wasn’t like him at all but Jean had completely come apart and one of his arms was back over his face and it just didn’t seem like the time to drag it out anymore. Not when Jean was calling him Daddy again, chanting the word in short hiccuping bursts, and clenching around his cock so hard he couldn’t do much but grind his hips forward in short stabbing thrusts.

He wrapped his hand around Jean’s cock and that was all it took. Jean sobbed wordlessly as he came, shooting over their stomachs and his own chest nearly up to his neck. Marco followed him over the edge, the spasming around him doing him in.

He had the presence of mind to not collapse onto Jean but only just. He pulled out, eased Jean’s leg down and then tipped over onto the mattress. He didn’t stay there long, tempting though it was, because Jean was hiccuping and panting.

He didn’t know that there was much he could do except wait it out but that didn’t stop him from rubbing the arm not pressed tightly against Jean’s face or brushing back sweaty locks of hair soothingly or from quietly telling Jean how good he had done and how amazing he was.

When Jean moved his arm and had calmed down Marco got him to sit up enough to tip water from the bottle he’d brought in before into his mouth.

When the bottle was empty he reached up to unclip the ears from Jean’s hair (deciding against the headband ears had probably been a good move. He wasn’t sure they would have stayed put) but Jean turned his head away before he could.

“You want to leave them on?” A nod. Marco rubbed at the back of his neck then shrugged. “I’m going to get something to clean up, okay?”

Another nod. Marco rolled off the bed, scoping up the discarded tail to he could set it by the tub to be cleaned soon, and went to do just that. He couldn’t help but think that, everything else aside, Jean had never looked quite so...relaxed.

Completely wrecked but relaxed.

 

_Epilogue_

 

Jean was sprawled out with his head in Marco’s lap eating apple slices directly from his fingers when they were offered to him. He still looked completely blissed out and when Marco took the time to run fingers through his hair and scratch his scalp a purr rumbled in his chest.

They needed to talk. Marco needed to know that Jean was okay with what had happened (though, to be fair, he certainly looked more than okay) that they were ‘okay’, and then there was the small matter of Jean’s surprise ‘Daddy’...thing.

Marco had met Jean’s father on one occasion (just once in over four years) and...well, when pressed for his opinion he’d thought it best to leave it at ‘I’m going to pray for him’, so the less said and thought about the man the better.

He was fairly certain they were nothing alike. Hoped so anyway.

He couldn’t begin to imagine what that was about so he was going to have to ask. How that was going to go he couldn’t even fathom.

Jean licked another bite of apple from his fingers then turned so his face was pressed again Marco’s stomach, arms winding around him in a light hug. Marco dragged a hand through Jean’s hair again, smiling faintly.

Later. They could talk later.

**Author's Note:**

> I picture these as the same Jean and Marco from my Something In You I Believe In series so. Southern, kind of chubby, drag queen Marco and full of family and self worth issues Jean. 
> 
> Also Marco doesn't understand Daddy Kink. *pats Marco* Bless his little heart. Anywho, tell me what you think!


End file.
